“Yeah.” I sighed.
“I think you’re running away, again.” He paused, giving me time to take that in. “You misread the situation, which you kinda do all of the time, but that doesn’t make you undeserving of love.”
“I don’t want to run from her.” I forced out a whisper through the knot in my throat.
“Then don’t.” He took my coffee from my hand making me realize it’d been spilling down my knuckles, too absorbed in our conversation. I shook the drops from my fingers.
Turning the mug upside down, he dumped the rest in the sand. “How do you feel about her?”
“I’m crazy about her. I don’t know what to do.” I ran a hand down my face. “I love her.”
“Well, man”—he leaned forward with the mug hanging from the hook of his finger—”it sounds like you owe her an apology. And if you stand a chance, you need to figure out this pattern and break it. I couldreach out to some colleagues in the city and see if they can give you a recommendation for a professional to help.”
“You’re right in problem-solving mode, huh?”
“Of course, I just regret I didn’t force you into a heart-to-heart earlier. I didn’t know you were feeling like shit. I would have helped.”
“Talking to people is hard.”
He raised his eyebrows and nodded breathing in deeply. “It really is.”
“I think I need to go find her.”
“Yeah, an apology really can’t come too soon.”
Chapter 25
Sadie
Jamison and I were like the same polarization of a magnet. If he walked into a room, I found an excuse to walk out of it. He’d sent me text and a voicemail, but I wasn’t in a position to read or listen while remaining emotionally stable, so I didn’t. I would deal with him. I just couldn’t, yet. At one point, as I was finishing the final touches on my makeup, he’d knocked on the door to the bridal suite and called through that the officiant was stuck in traffic. Just the sound of his voice sent a flurry of mixed emotions through me.
Loss. Want. Love.
I swiped a handful of Q-tips off the counter and pressed them one-by-one to the corners of my eyes until the sudden wash of tears were managed. My makeup remained intact. Even if the rest of me was in pieces.
It might help if I could feel angry, but I wasn’t. There was no one to be angry at. The whole situation was just sad.
It was with an iron fist-like grip that I kept my composure. I laughed along with June and our mom as Jamison’s mom retold a story about her wedding day, but for the life of me I couldn’t retain any of the details. I was too busy wondering how such a lovely woman could have raised a man so...emotionally broken. Did it all go back to the loss of his dad? Did Sally know? Had she tried to help?
But as soon as my thoughts got too close to something that would make me cry, I switched them like the changing of a radio station.
It was in one of those moments that I admitted to my sister that Jamison and me dancing would make me really sad. She hadn’t asked any questions, instead she rubbed my arm and promised to take care of it.
The next knock on the door was our dad. I loved watching compilation videos of dads seeing their daughters on their wedding days. They were perfect for a mid-afternoon light-weight cry. But when watchingmydad andmysister share this moment, it was a full-on attack. There were so many echoes in his tear-filled loving gaze—the daddy-daughter dance where she stood on his toes, her taking photos with her friends before she left for prom, the gleam of pride on his face as she walked across the stage at her college graduation.
This life, this family, it was without extravagance. And yet, what was a more worthy cause than to devote yourself to the people you loved? It didn’t feel like it was without meaning. Truly, it never had.
I wanted this.
Another version of this.
Myversion of this.
But if I never had the experience of watching the man I loved kiss our daughter’s forehead as she stood draped in white lace the way my mom was experiencing now, I would still have this. And Alicia, and my other friends. I would still have this memory of our dad lookingat June like she was just a little kid, wiping away tears and whispering, “How did this happen so fast?”
Then he pulled me into the next hug and spoke over our heads to Mom. “Maureen, they’re beautiful.”
She made a sound that mixed laughter and a sob that somehow conveyed agreement.
